That Which Continues
I’m not going to lie, the sunset view from here is pretty great. Margaret River in the Southwest of WA is an exceptionally beautiful place to be spending the weekend – I’m surrounded by quiet, and green, and really good coffee shops.
Usually, the start of a new year has me full of plans, wonderings and optimism for the days ahead. I love the energy of beginnings. However, as I sit under the cooling canopy of these majestic trees this evening, I notice how the instability of recent world events and their echoes here in Australia have me more distracted than usual. I notice that my patience is thinner for tricky people, and as I breathe in the sea air and exhale, the tension in my shoulders and neck releases … and I realise it’s as if I’ve been bracing myself. The new, sparkly possibilities aren’t fuelling me in the same way this year, and I’m just not one to bury my head in the sand and pretend otherwise. So, what then? From where do I draw life and hope as a mentor at the start of 2025?
The thickly gnarled roots of the tree I’m leaning against snake determinedly beneath the surface into the deep earth below. Local birds are chattering their goodnights in its branches, and saplings grow up in the dappled light. Reading the generous welcome from the Wadandi custodians of this area, there’s a story of a people on country over many generations, a story of relationships, ancestors, and a rich local ecosystem. And while it includes the fresh and the new, it’s the timeless – or “time-full” – that resonates with me in this moment. That which continues.
I’m reminded of the significance of my own “ancestors”, the family lines far beyond Australia, but also the mentors whose investment in me over time continues to be a grounding resource of strength and gratitude … a trust, even. It isn’t their cleverness or competency that come to mind (though they certainly were / are both), but their commitment to look reality in the eye, link arms, take a breath, and step forward in wisdom … “Somehow, the Kingdom is coming,” one mentor says, lending defiant hope, “I wonder where we’ll see it today?” He would always say that, and it wasn’t just fluff but curiosity and hard-won determination … “Is there any usefulness here, Em?” asks another, “What might be for cultivation, conversation, contemplation, or composting?” Remembering our prayers together, that I would know the difference, makes me smile. We both agree that sometimes things are just the fifth “c”: cr*p, rather than useful. She insists that we can courageously tell the truth while remaining centred and sustained by the love of God that holds the world together. The love that continues.
Last month, a mentoree urged me to meet the facilitator of a workshop they’d been to recently, because they thought we would get on brilliantly. “She reminded me so much of you,” the person said, and from their examples I recognised that they had met another dear mentor and friend of mine. An “ancestor”. My formation bears her fingerprints along with those of a few other trusted guides, and apparently folks recognise the resemblance. I’m still gleaning from the shared journey together with these mentors past and present. I see Jesus in them. They remind me who I am and who he is when I am forgetful. In different ways, scripture-writers, saints, poets, artists and teachers have played vital shaping roles in my faith, and I carry their ancestral influences as a heritage too.
Today, this is what I am reminded continues: the testimony of God’s faithfulness to be present and active with us in our mentoring relationships. A testimony that flows through our mentors from their “ancestors”, through us, and through to resource those we mentor, and those they mentor. He’s right, my mentor, “somehow the Kingdom is coming”, and we get to participate – we get to receive and invest in the rich, transformative continuity of things.
As night is falling, the magnificent trees that are company for me today invite me to send down deep roots into the good soil in which I’ve been planted. To integrate the inheritance I receive from ancestor mentors with renewed gratitude, and to mentor those I serve attentive to the Spirit who continues with us into this new year, breathing life and holding us in God’s love. “Somehow, the Kingdom is coming”, the Karri leaves whisper.
Postscript:
So, what about you – how are you entering this new year of mentoring? Perhaps you’re full of new energy and refreshed intention, with a clear sense of what God has for your practice this year. That’s fabulous, I encourage you to lean into that and celebrate it for the gift it is, and I look forward to hearing your stories at our online Zoom gatherings. Or perhaps you’re resonating with the reminder to dig deep into God’s grace for that which continues – to draw from the testimony of God’s faithfulness across many generations and seasons. If so, consider how you might take some time in places and with people who remind you of that testimony. Reflecting on notes or photos can prompt precious memories, and journalling, making art or music, or nature-walks are also ways our souls can be reminded of the company of Jesus and trusted others on our mentoring journey. Perhaps some questions to ponder are:
- What are some things I’ve received from “ancestors” and their investment in me over the years that I have been entrusted with sharing through my mentoring?
- What are some things that I would have loved to have inherited from mentors but that were missing in my earlier formation, and how might God be stirring me to invest that for the flourishing and formation of those whom I serve?
What other questions would you suggest?
Blessings for the year ahead, and may you know the pleasure and presence of Jesus with you in your mentoring in 2025,
Em Seinemeier (February 2025)